


you're the sun, you wake me up

by synchronysymphony



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cooking, Domestic, Gen, Mornings, cosette the mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synchronysymphony/pseuds/synchronysymphony
Summary: A morning in Les Amis' apartment.





	you're the sun, you wake me up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DecayingLiberty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecayingLiberty/gifts).



> This was supposed to go with the [Asian Les Mis AU](https://decayingliberty.tumblr.com/tagged/all-asian-les-mis) that [Libby](http://decayingliberty.tumblr.com) and I came up with, but somehow a couple things changed when I was writing it, and Cosette turned Chinese instead of Korean? But I like how it turned out :')  
> Also inspired by [this](http://sunny-day-sky.tumblr.com/post/161808248924) picture!  
> enjoy the fluffiness~

Sun was streaming through the open windows of the kitchen as Cosette moved lightly to the coffeemaker, dancing minutely in spite of the haze of sleepiness peeking past her eyes. It was morning, fresh, beautiful, morning, a brand-new day to embrace the world.

Humming a little made-up tune to herself, she filled the elephant-shaped watering pot and dropped a bit of artificial rain into the tabletop plants, Bossuet’s thyme, Musichetta’s lemongrass, Joly’s tea-rose, Enjolras’s nasturtiums, Grantaire’s rosemary, Eponine’s basil, her own pretty daisies, and maybe it was silly to pretend that she was a flower fairy, but she’d been doing it since she was a little girl, and she wasn’t about to stop now that she was 23 years old and engaged.

“I bless the rains down in Africa,” she crooned, her own song morphing into one of the songs that Grantaire insisted were created to be turned into memes. There were things she couldn’t help picking up in living with her friends, and their taste in music was one of them. 

She glanced up at the microwave as she put the watering pot back on its plate. Already nearly 7:00. She’d need to hurry if she wanted Bossuet to have his breakfast before he headed off to the school.

It was funny, she thought. Of all of them, Bossuet hadn’t seemed like the one who’d become a kindergarten teacher. But he’d taken to it so easily, and now there he was, in his fifth year at the school, beloved by staff and students alike. The only thing he objected to was the flirtatious mothers (and a few fathers) who came into parent-teacher conferences with gifts and honeyed words, hoping to charm their way into the handsome young teacher’s heart. Joly and Musichetta didn’t mind. They thought it was funny, really, so secure in their relationship as to laugh at any attempt to steal Bossuet away from them. 

The thought of relationships turned Cosette’s mind to her own beloved Eponine, slumbering sweetly in the bedroom they shared with Enjolras and Grantaire. They were _engaged_ now, for real, and maybe they didn’t have enough money to get married and move out of the apartment anytime soon, but the fact that they were serious, that they had a _plan_ – that was enough to make Cosette do a little pirouette in the kitchen, right where she stood. 

Cosette’s impromptu dance landed her in front of the refrigerator, and she pulled it open to take out eggs, milk, tomatoes, ginger, and tofu. Only when Enjolras and Joly weren’t home would she would cook with different types of meats. Sometimes, the others would ask if it was tiring for her to keep up with everyone’s dietary needs, but it never was. She liked the challenge, really, tailoring the shopping list and tweaking the menu to make sure everyone was content. 

It was fun doing the cooking for the household. The others were often concerned that it was too much for her, and sometimes, they even tried to help, but between Enjolras and Bossuet being banned from the kitchen, and Grantaire and Musichetta creating weird dishes that no one else would eat, she and Eponine were the only ones who could really feed their little family. And Eponine was usually busy fixing something or doing maintenance work (their apartment was sweet, but it was _old_ , and things often broke), so Cosette was perfectly content to take over kitchen duty.

(Just as long as someone else did the washing up. She _hated_ washing up.)

Cosette turned on the rice cooker, then pulled a mixing bowl from the cabinet. She was going to make tomato eggs this morning— Enjolras had an exam later, and she wanted to make sure he had enough protein to get him through the grueling rigor of law school essays. She cut up tomatoes and set them simmering with the ginger, then cracked some eggs into the bowl and began to stir them up, adding milk and spices when she thought it was time. Oh, why did black pepper always clump up like this? There was probably a better way to add it, but she’d never been really picky about measuring. Her dad, in his traditional fashion, had always taught her that the best way to cook was to feel it with the heart, and that’s what she always did. 

She was just crumbling the tofu to add to the tomatoes, now bubbling merrily on the stove, when there was a glimmer of golden curls, and a tiny, warm bundle brushing past her to get to the coffeemaker. A smile bloomed on her lips instinctively. 

“Good morning, Enjolras.”

“Mm. Morning, Cosette.” Enjolras yawned like a kitten, and rubbed at his eyes. “It’s really early.”

“Well, you don’t have to be up yet. Why don’t you go back to bed and sleep a little more?”

“Have to study.”

“All right. Then, sit down. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

Enjolras’s sweet, sleepy smile melted her heart. He picked up his coffee and settled down at the table in a soft little pile of fluff and oversized sweater (Cosette recognized it as Musichetta’s). The sunlight came through the window to surround him in a puddle of light, playing through his curls, glinting off his peachy skin, and making his amber eyes shine gold. Cosette was no Grantaire, but she almost wanted to take a photo of him, just to remember the pretty picture he made.

“Do you need your notebook?” she asked.

Enjolras shook his head, curls bouncing. “I have everything here.”

“Right, because you never put it away last night.”

“I knew I’d be up early!”

Cosette skated in her socks across the well-worn tile floor to press a friendly kiss to his forehead. “Go on then, study. And let me know if you need anything.”

“‘Kay. Thank you, Cosette.”

Cosette smiled, and skated back to the stove. The tomatoes were almost done. She gave the eggs one last mix before pouring them carefully into the pot. This was the most delicate part; if she wasn’t careful, she could end up with eggs that were far too firm. She must have done something right, though, because before long, the fragrance filled the kitchen, ginger and onion and pepper and sesame oil, steam rising up to perfume the early-morning air. She gave her pot one more dramatic stir, arranging everything to the best and most photogenic position, before turning off the heat and taking the pot off the stove.

Enjolras looked up when the rice cooker beeped. “It smells good.”

“I’m glad.” Cosette dished out a generous portion of rice and heaped eggs on top. She carried it over to the table and set it down gently by Enjolras’s notebook. “Here you go, doll.”

“Thank you!”

“My pleasure. Now, what fruit do you want?”

“Umm. Strawberries?”

“We don’t have any strawberries. _Someone_ forgot to get them last time he was at the store.” Cosette pinched Enjolras teasingly on the cheek. “We have apples, oranges, grapes, bananas, and one lonely pear.”

“Can I have an orange, then?”

“Sure thing.” Cosette peeled the orange, admiring the way the motes of juice floated up to disappear in the sunbeams flooding the kitchen. Oranges were such a bright, warm fruit. She set the slices in a bowl, sprinkled a dusting of powdered sugar on top (Enjolras loved his sweets), and brought it to the table. “There you go.”

“Thank you!”

Enjolras put two whole slices of orange into his mouth, looking for all the world like a hamster. Cosette couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t choke. I’m going to wake up the others.”

She danced over to her bedroom, knocking on the open door. “Good morning,” she sang. “Rise and shine, beauties!”

As Eponine and Grantaire began to stir in their respective beds, Cosette stepped to the window and pulled back the curtains, letting the morning sunlight flood the room. The sky was bright-blue, fresh and clean, and set high-up over the earth like a glass bowl over the spring wind, wind which gently stirred the curtains and filled the room with bright freshness.

“Wake up,” Cosette trilled. “It’s a beautiful new day, and I made tomato eggs. Come on.” She bent over Eponine’s bed and dropped a kiss on her forehead, light as the new day. “Wake up, darling. I miss you.”

Eponine’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled sleepily up at Cosette. “Good morning to you, too, princess.”

Cosette dipped her head for a proper kiss, not even caring about morning breath, or about Grantaire sitting up in the other bed to grumble and scratch his hair and complain to anyone who was listening (maybe Enjolras) about how early it was. Eponine’s lips were slightly chapped, but softer than anything in the world, and there was still a taste of the cherry-flavored lip balm that she put on each night hanging on to the corner of her mouth.

“I love you,” Cosette whispered.

Eponine’s eyes fluttered, maybe partly from sleepiness, probably mostly because she was affected like she always was when she heard that. “I love you too, little lark.”

Cosette reached around Eponine to pull her up. She might have been smaller and slighter, but that didn’t mean that she was weaker, not in any way, shape, or form. In fact, she was probably one of the strongest in their house, excluding Grantaire. This was useful, because it allowed her to pull Eponine bodily out of bed and set her on her feet, right into the slippers that she had lovingly placed next to her bed the night before. 

“Come on,” she said. “Don’t let the food get cold.”

“Okay, okay.” Eponine laughed, kissed Cosette once more, and padded off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and get a little more presentable for the day. 

With this done, Cosette turned back to Grantaire, who was now sitting blearily on the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes, and looking ready to fall back asleep at any minute. “It’s early,” he complained, seeing that Cosette was looking at him.

“I know,” said Cosette soothingly. “But Enjolras is already up. Go to him now, and you’ll have a good half hour with him before he leaves for school.”

Grantaire stood, but then sank down again, groaning. “Eponine’s in the bathroom.”

“Go brush your teeth with her. She won’t mind.”

Grantaire groaned again at this incredible difficulty, but finally stood up and started lumbering out of the room, looking like a bear woken prematurely from its hibernation. “I hate mornings,” he mumbled, loud enough for Enjolras to hear and call back a cheerful “good morning, babe!” Obviously, the coffee he’d drunk had taken effect by now. 

Cosette skipped out of the room and into the other bedroom, where Joly, Musichetta, and Bossuet were sleeping, all tangled up together. She pulled open the curtains in there, too, laughing when Joly began sneezing in his sleep at the first glints of light. 

“Up and at ‘em,” she called. “It’s a new day, and it’s going to be good. Up with you three; it’s breakfast time!”

Slowly, as if melted out of the ice of slumber, Joly and Musichetta began to stir. Bossuet remained fast asleep, drooling a little on his pillow. Cosette came over to the bed and tapped him right on the top of his bald head. 

“Come on, eagle, time to get out of your nest now.”

Bossuet sat up, yawning, stretching, and nearly knocking Joly out of the bed. Joly clung onto Musichetta with a muffled squawk of protest.

“Would you watch it?”

“Sorry, baby.”

Bossuet reached for Joly, preparing to smooch him, and Cosette, deciding that they were well and truly awake by now, backed out of the room, shutting the door halfway on the way out.

Back in the kitchen, Grantaire had emerged from the bathroom, and was lying half on Enjolras and half on the table. It didn’t look very comfortable for either of them, and Enjolras’s tiny form looked close to falling off his chair, but they seemed happy, and they looked up and smiled at Cosette as she came back in. 

“Welcome back.”

Cosette bounced over to the stove and began dishing out portions of food for everyone, including a large cup of coffee for Grantaire. He was so tired that he hadn’t gotten anything for himself, and by now was looking like he was about to go to sleep again. But this wasn’t acceptable, since he had to go to work soon, so she set the dishes neatly in front of him and gave him a sharp tweak on the ear.

“Sit up, hon, and eat your breakfast. You have clients waiting.”

Grantaire sighed as if this was a hardship, but when the scent of the rice hit his nose, he really did sit up, looking much happier. “This looks great, Cosette. Thank you.”

“No problem. Now, what fruit do you want?”

“Do we have pears?”

“We have one.”

“Can I eat it?”

Cosette took the pear out of the refrigerator, washed it, and sliced it into pieces. She put cinnamon, cloves, and honey on top, and placed the dish in front of Grantaire, laughing when Enjolras stole a piece for himself and Grantaire head-butted him in protest.

“That’s mine!”

While she waited for the others, Cosette dished herself a hearty portion of food, including a bowl of grapes and kumquats, and sat down to eat with Enjolras and Grantaire. She really was a good cook, she thought appreciatively, savoring the creamy eggs and soft rice, flavored perfectly, and cooked right to the second. Her roommates were so lucky.

By the time Eponine, Bossuet, Joly, and Musichetta had come out to the kitchen, Enjolras was done with his breakfast and was washing up the dishes. He turned around with a glowing smile, though, and waved the rice paddle.

“Cosette made tomato eggs!”

“I heard.” Eponine stopped by the table to steal a kiss and a grape from Cosette before bounding over to the stove. “Y’all better have left me some. I’m starving.”

“Don’t worry, I left at least one tomato,” said Grantaire. Eponine stuck out her tongue at him. 

“I’ll leave _you_ one tomato.”

“Is there tea?” asked Joly, wandering over to the stove. Cosette pointed, nodding. She wouldn’t leave him hanging like this without his daily blend of herbs; she knew better than that. 

“No ginger today, because that’s in the eggs. But I put extra goji berries.”

“Nice.”

Joly poured himself a cup and came over to the table, sipping happily. Cosette smiled, seeing him. Sure, the teas she brewed nowadays weren’t exactly the traditional ones she’d grown up with in her childhood, but wasn’t experimentation what traditional medicine was all about? Certainly, her dad was proud of her whenever he saw her concoctions. She knew he bragged about her to Dahlia, Zéphine, Favorite, and all the other aunties when he got the chance. 

Speaking of which, wasn’t her dad visiting soon? She darted up to check the calendar on the fridge. Sure enough, there it was, written in pink sharpie below Eponine’s dentist appointment and Bossuet’s open-house day. 

“Hey, all,” she called to the kitchen at large. Grantaire, Eponine, Bossuet, Joly, and Musichetta looked up from their food, and Enjolras from the sink. “My dad’s coming tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” peeped Enjolras, eyes and mouth curled up in peaceful delight. “I’ll clean if you cook?”

“And I’ll go grocery shopping if you give me the list,” said Bossuet. Cosette pointed to the fridge.

“I already made it.”

“You’re so organized,” said Eponine in wonder. “I love that about you.”

“I love everything about you,” Cosette told her, and slid over for a kiss when she blushed faintly under her olive skin. Grantaire snorted.

“Gaaaaayyy.”

“Bisexualllll” corrected Cosette, poking him. “You of all people should know that.”

Grantaire laughed, and it was a bright, happy, golden sound that made the kitchen light up. Enjolras ran over from the sink to kiss him on top of the head. He didn’t need to say a word; Cosette knew he was happy to see his boyfriend so genuinely joyous. It had been a hard journey, and one that was still ongoing, but he was in so much of a better place now, and they were all blessed for it. 

They were all distracted from their calm breakfast-time by the kitchen timer blaring from the side of the stove. Cosette went to turn it off, but only after waving it in Bossuet’s face.

“It’s time for you to get ready, Boss. The kids are waiting.”

“Ah, right.” Bossuet reluctantly got up from his chair and passed his empty bowl to Enjolras. “Okay, I’m on my way. But where’s this morning’s pep-talk?”

Cosette smiled. This was her favorite part of the morning. “Okay, gather up,” she said. Everyone scooted in close to the table, and Enjolras came back from the sink to sit on Grantaire’s lap and listen. Cosette held up a grape. “This is today. We don’t know how it tastes yet, because it’s barely started. There’s so much potential there— what’s going to happen? We don’t know. But you know what?”

The others looked at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“We have a choice. We can eat the grape today, and enjoy how sweet it is, even if there are seeds. We can appreciate everything it has to offer, and take it for what it is. Or, we can put it back in the dish without even trying it. Which one do we want to do?”

“We want to try it,” said Bossuet, kindergarten teacher to the core. “Don’t we, guys?”

“We do,” Enjolras agreed.

Cosette nodded. “Good. Now, like I said, there might be some seeds in there, or maybe the skin might be a little bitter. But some of it’s going to be sweet and delicious if you allow yourself to try it and appreciate it. It is what it is, and it can’t be anything else. But you can’t taste the sweetness if you don’t try. So let’s go out and make today a ‘grape’ day, shall we?”

There was a brief silence as the others digested her words, only broken when they all started to applaud. “Let’s do it!” shouted Musichetta. 

Cosette got to her feet. It was time for her to get ready for work, too. She kissed each of her friends on the forehead, ending with Eponine. 

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too.” Eponine pulled her down for a kiss on the lips. “Have a good day today, okay?”

Cosette smiled, thinking of the grape. She really meant everything she said, and she was going to do her damnedest to make it come true. She kissed Eponine once more, a sweet brush on the cheek, before finally pulling away.

“Yeah,” she said. “I know I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://synchronysymphony.tumblr.com)
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> okay some notes!  
> -feuilly and bahorel live together  
> -combeferre and jehan need their own space so they both live alone  
> -courfeyrac and marius live together  
> -jean valjean likes to travel, but he visits cosette often  
> -favorite, zéphine, dahlia, and their friends all get along well with valjean (so does javert)  
> -everyone's either in grad school or just staring to work, so they can't really afford to not live together yet  
> -cosette is a mom


End file.
